Things no Longer Allowed Involving Shipgirls - AngryAmerican Edition
by AngryAmericanok
Summary: CV12 Hornet over on SpaceBattles has written the bulk of the snippets in the TnLAISG thread and posted here on FFN, but there are a bundle that others have written as well. This is a compilation of mine from that thread.
1. Rule 6483

**6483: With flu season approaching, keep in mind that while you might not be very vulnerable to it, this does not apply to humans.**

 **6483a: Yes ship girls can be carriers of the flu virus, as well as a wide variety of other viruses, bacteria, infections, and parasites.**

 **6483b: Saying 'Sharing is Caring' does not make it acceptable. Additionally, more than a few girls are sensitive to sick people around them. It's been very distracting for everyone involved.**

 **6483c: For the love of all that's good, don't try to 'Collect Them All'!**

Somewhere on the East Coast,

Oklahoma strode into The Factory, the specialized facility entirely dedicated to rigging and the maintenance thereof. This early it was fairly quiet, with perhaps a dozen people in total working on the CNC machines and what looked to be German cruiser's rigging.

The battleship made a beeline to the walled-off back of the building, marked as 'Precision Mountings'. Inside was more like a modelers hobby room than a machine shop, with paints, files, small pliers, and tiny welding sets. But what immediately struck Oklahoma was that the person she was searching for wasn't there. She hurried over and looked around. His workspace was clear, everything carefully stored away on the shelves.

"Looking for him?" One of the workers asked, looking up from a miniature quad 40 mm mount.

"Yes, I am."

"Duncan called in sick this morning. Sounded pretty bad." The worker saw the battleship go stock still at the news, "Are you-"

"I've got to go. Bye!" With that, Oklahoma took off running for the door.

"What's her problem?"

"Don't ask stuff like that! You'll drive yourself crazy."

Off base,

Duncan groaned as someone started pounding on the door. "Hold on a minute!" He grumbled as he dragged himself up and staggered towards the front door. He staggered short as someone physically ripped the deadbolt from the door, followed by the handle.

The next thing he knew, someone had barged in, slung him over their shoulder, and was carrying him through his house.

"Just hold on, you'll be fine, I'll take good care of you-"

"Who are you?"

"Shh," Oklahoma said as she carefully laid Duncan in his bed. "Everything will be fine. I'll take care of you, you just rest alright?"

"Okie? What the hell-"

"Shh! J-just..." Then Duncan noticed the tears in Oklahoma's eyes. "I-I'll take care of you. Just rest, please." He nodded.

That Afternoon,

New York, the leader of BATDIV6 tapped her foot impatiently. No mean feat considering she was standing on the surface of the Atlantic. "Where is she?"

The other two battleships shrugged. "I haven't seen her since breakfast," Pennsylvania said.

"She told me she was going to the factory to see someone, but that was around nine," Nevada added.

Sighing in aggravation, New York pulled out her cell phone and dialed the missing battleship's number. Her grip on the specially designed case tightened as the phone continued to ring. Finally, someone answered. "H-hello New York."

New York hit the speakerphone button before growling, "Where the hell are you? We're already at the practice range!"

"I won't be coming today."

"What- Are you crying?"

"H-he's sick. I don't want to lose him too!"

New York looked over at Nevada who shrugged, "I don't know, her boyfriend maybe?" Then she snapped her fingers, "The flu! Remember nineteen eighteen?"

"Yes, I do..." The 1918 pandemic was hard to forget after all. New York suddenly felt very out of her depth listening to Oklahoma crying. Lots of ship girls had something from their past experiences that would set them off one way or another, but she wasn't the one who had to deal with that. But, she was in charge and had to make a call one way or another. "Alright, you stay where you are doing what you're doing, and we'll uh... Make it up later alright?" She sighed as the line disconnected, "We'll make this quick, then we need to find out where Oklahoma and her patient is."

Later,

"I found the place," Pennsylvania said as she studied the destroyed door. "I'm going in to see what's what."

"Send us the address, Nevada called in a favor with Shamrock and we're all loaded up."

"Can do." Pennsylvania hung up, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open. "Okie? It's Pennsylvania, I'm here to help." There was no response. "This is a bad idea, Pennsy..." But she stepped inside and set about searching the house. It only took a few minutes for her to find the bedroom.

It was dark, the only light coming from the inside the closet and a few candles. Oklahoma sat beside the bed, gently stroking the occupant's forehead.

"Okie?"

"Shhh, he's sleeping."

Pennsylvania quietly came up beside Oklahoma, dreading what she might see. She was immensely relieved to see that he was indeed alive and asleep, he looked awful, but that was to be expected. "New York and Nevada are bringing Shamrock to help take care of him."

"Okay. I think he'll be fine," Oklahoma said as she brushed some hair away from his forehead. "His fever broke a few minutes ago."

"That's great. I'll be outside waiting for them, alright." At Oklahoma's nod, Pennsylvania left the bedroom.

It only took a few minutes for New York, Nevada, and Shamrock to arrive. As the hospital ship made her way inside, New York pulled the other battleships aside. "Here's what we'll do. I'll tell Briggs about all this, Pennsylvania will deal with the door, and Nevada will stay with her sister. Alright?"

"Yeah."

"Will do."

Briggs pinched the bridge of his nose as New York went over the events of the day. When she had finished, he looked up at the ceiling.

"So, he gets sick, Oklahoma goes AWOL and breaks into his house to take care of him."

"That's the gist of it, sir."

"What's his outlook?"

"Oh, he'll be fine. Just a nasty virus that's been making the rounds."

"Well, it's fairly minor as things go. I'll leave any disciplinary action up to you."

New York shrugged, "Since no one got hurt and the property damage was minimal, I'll have her help Vestal with her notes for a few days."

"Sounds good to me. Dismissed."

Notes:

Shamrock was an American hospital ship during WWII.

Eight crewmen on Oklahoma died during the 1918 Pandemic.


	2. Rule 6524

**[Context: 6524: Using the summoning facilities in an attempt to resurrect extinct species is prohibited. Don't ask why we had to make this rule; just blame the SCIENCE! girls. This is a continuation of a string of rules involving dinosaurs on page 461.]**

 **6524e: Especially not for eating! Akagi.**

 **6524f: 'Snuffles' can be visited at the Tokyo Zoo. Rides are available with prior arrangement.**

The summoning chamber was cold. Akagi rubbed her hands together for warmth as she went over the list of items and procedures for her plan. With any luck, she would soon have a massive supply of a meat that no one had eaten fresh in more than 500 years.

The candles and incense were burning, the circle was ready in the center of the floor, and she had the effigy prepared. Akagi added the ingredients one at a time, a bowl of snow, a bit of ivory, a clump of hair, and the sliver of real bone, courtesy of Hibiki. She rubbed the effigy for good luck, then set it in its proper place.

Instantly, the world went white. Akagi was flung away from the circle by the mystic energies. She felt herself slam into a wall, not super painfully, but enough to probably leave a sizeable dent in the wall. She blinked furiously to clear her vision. Then something touched her.

The carrier looked up to see a massive, hairy trunk. Attached to the trunk was a wooly head, that was attached to a wooly mammoth. "It worked!" Akagi looked around her the dart gun that she had ready to dispatch the creature when it rubbed her head with its trunk. It made an inquisitive noise.

Suddenly, Akagi felt a pang of guilt. She had brought a massive creature back from the dead, and here she was getting ready to kill and eat the thing. She stood up and looked into the mammoths surprisingly intelligent eye. "Aww..." Akagi reached up and scratched the mammoth's ear. "Well, I'll have to find something to do with you now…" She laughed as it rubbed her head with its trunk.

The next morning, Goto looked out his office window to see Tenryuu and a dozen destroyers riding on the back of a mammoth. Akagi was walking alongside, passing pine branches to the creature which ate them happily. Goto half turned and shouted, "Ooyodo, call Tokyo University. And a zoo. We need some experts here."

If we're summoning stuff from the past, of course, someone is going to try and eat it!


	3. Rule 7409

**7409: No matter what someone did, do not try and recreate The Cask of Amontillado. Or any other Poe stories for that matter.**

Portland had passed mere _anger_. She had scrimped and saved for _weeks_ to get enough cash to buy some proper French wine from Jean Bart, that greedy frog. The real deal, direct from Europe, and all but impossible to get with the war on.

Then her _idiot_ roommate Macon had _stolen_ it and drank _all of it_.

But _now_ she would get even! She'd _show_ Macon what happened to _thieves_!

It took another week to get ready, the main component was as much bottom of the bin _swill_ that she could lay her hands on. Portland grinned. Macon, the simpleminded _fool_ , had taken the bait and gotten hammered on the hooch. The heavy cruiser was totally impaired.

"Hey, Macon?"

"Wha?"

"I've got some good stuff stashed if you'll follow me. We'll have a good old time."

The drunken Macon smiled, "You're the best Porty!"

Bristling at her hated nickname, Portland took Macon by the arm and led her out of their room, towards where she had gotten everything _ready_.

Properly enchanted shackles would have been too hard to come by, but a trip to a hardware store had supplied the parts for some improvised restraints. Macon was too drunk to notice as Portland attached the chains to her arms and legs, and even when she wrapped a couple loops around her body.

With the _drunken fool_ chained to the concrete walls of the basement, Portland started with the cinder blocks. She had closed more than half the hole before Macon even realized that she was trapped.

"What? What are you doing?"

"I thought you looked cold, so I'm going to close off the draft," Portland said evenly.

"No, you're lying!" Macon stumbled as she tried to get to the opening.

"Smart girl. Have fun in there!" Portland said cheerfully as she started on the last course of bricks.

"For the love of God Portland!"

"For the love of God indeed!" Portland replied as she slid the last cinderblock into place. She stepped back and admired her handiwork. The wall didn't look out of place at all down in the basement, meaning that no one would notice.

Humming a cheerful tune, Portland sauntered out of the basement and back to her room. She poured herself a small glass of wine, some decent stuff from California. Then she raised it to the ceiling.

"To Macon! May she rest in peace!"

Trapped men were screaming. Imprisoned in the dark, struggling to escape…

Pennsylvania awoke with a jolt. She sat up and rubbed her head, "Stupid nightmare…" The battleship reached for her glass of water, then she froze.

There was screaming.

She looked down towards the floor, where the sound seemed to be coming from. Pennsylvania got up and walked over to her roommate, Tennessee. She shook the other battleship awake, "Tennessee!"

"Uhhh… What do you want Pennsy?"

"Listen!"

Tennessee groggily sat up and looked around, "Sounds like screams."

"Yes! From downstairs!"

Tennessee grunted and got to her feet, "Alright, let's go see what's going on."

The two battleships left their room only to find an annoyed Nevada already in the hall. She turned to face the other battleships, "You hear it too?"

"Yeah," Pennsylvania replied as the three girls headed towards the stairwell. "I had a nightmare about Pearl that woke me up. Is Okey alright? I know she's had trouble with nightmares."

"Nah, her boyfriend got her some headphones that have been helping. Jeeze whoever this is has a set of pipes!"

The screams were much louder now, and were accompanied by what sounded like… chains?

Now they were in the basement. Tennessee switched on the lights and the battleships split up to search. After a few minutes, Pennsylvania stopped in front of a bare cinderblock wall. The screams had switched to sobbing, sobs that were coming from behind the wall. Pennsylvania brought her arm back and punched through the cinderblocks. In just a few seconds she had demolished the wall and could see inside.

"Macon?"

The heavy cruiser was down on her knees, chained to the wall by her arms, legs, and by chains around her waist. Tears were streaming down her face as she looked up at Pennsylvania. "Help me…"

"Jeeze," Pennsylvania said as she started working on removing the chains, "Who did this to you?"

Sniffling, Macon said, "I-it was Porty. A while back I s-stole some wine from her. I didn't know h-how important it w-was to her. I was going to get her more, but it was g-going to take me a while."

By now, Nevada and Tennessee had gathered outside the hole in the wall. Tennessee cleared her throat, "I'll get some MPs and deal with Portland. I'll let you two figure out what to do with Macon here."

"I'll get her to the docks, she needs to sleep this off I think," Pennsylvania said as she positioned herself to help Macon walk. "Nevada, would you give me a hand?"

"Yeah."

 **A short while later,**

Portland looked up as someone knocked on her door. Who could be here at this hour?

"Come in!"

She blanched as Tennessee stalked in, rigging on, and flanked by a pair of humorless MPs. The battleship glared down at the cruiser, "You're coming with us. Admiral Briggs will hear about this tomorrow, and until then you're going to the brig."

Portland nodded, eyes glued to the barrels of Tennessee's 14'' guns. She raised her hands.

Briggs could feel his blood pressure rising as Tennessee told him what had happened the night before. On one hand, Portland had apparently tried to kill Macon. On the other, once she sobered up, Macon could have gotten out with a trivial effort.

"What does Portland have to say?"

"She claims that she only did it to teach Macon a lesson. And she would have to know that Macon could get out pretty easily."

Briggs sighed, "You know what? She's going to stay in the brig for a week, and I'm going to rescind her alcohol privileges. Kerstin?"

"Yes?" Brigg's secretary ship, the auxiliary ship Kerstin poked her head in.

"I'll need the phone numbers and addresses for every liquor store around you can find. Every place that even sells the stuff. Portland won't be getting any for a while."

"Alright, sir!"

Briggs nodded at Tennessee, "Alright, dismissed."

 **Notes:**

Portland can think in _italics_ , so she is best watched from a safe distance.

I was trying to portray her as someone who is overly dramatic, and tries to be cultured.


	4. Rule 7472

**7472: At this time of year, if you decide to 'experiment' with food of any sort, keep it in a well-marked container or in a separate and clearly marked storage area. We don't want any more incidents.**

Duncan set the foil-wrapped turkey down on the countertop. Scores of the things had been sent to the ship girls, some from state governments, some from cities and towns, but most of them came from regular people. While most of them ended up being donated, there were always enough to go around. In a little bit, Okie would drop by to help finish up before they took everything to the main event-

The foil moved. Then it moved again.

Duncan stared at the rustling foil. He walked over and pulled it away from the resting bird. At first, it looked normal, then the stump of the neck twisted around. There was a face, with bared teeth, a long beard, and a pair of eye stalks. It looked Duncan dead in the eyes, then it opened its mouth and screamed. Duncan froze for a second, then grabbed a knife, threw it at the turkey-creature, and bolted from the kitchen. Not knowing how to throw knives, and a kitchen knife not being suited for throwing in the first place, it did absolutely nothing to harm the thing.

It jumped up, raised its arms in the air, and bellowed again before giving chase.

Just ahead of the terrifyingly fast turkey, Duncan made it to the closest room with a locking door, which happened to be a bathroom. He slammed the door shut and stepped back. Still bellowing, the turkey threw itself against the door and started banging away at it with its arms. In a matter of seconds, the hollow-core door started to give way.

Then a car door slammed out front. Duncan heard the banging stop, then the odd thumps of the creature's legs as it walked to the front door. A few moments later he heard the turkey start up its scream again, then it was cut off. He opened the door and peered out of the bathroom. Oklahoma was standing in the door with a disgusted look on her face, and the turkey, or what was left of it, was smeared over her boot and against the far wall.

The two locked eyes, "What the hell was that?"

"I have no idea… Where did you get that turkey from anyway?"

"It was just one of the ones in the freezer, we all keep the turkeys that we get in there. Someone would have had to messed with- hold on a minute."

Elsewhere, South Dakota dug through the battleship dorm deep freezer in a panic. Her experiment was gone! Why the hell hadn't she just made enough space in the lab freezer?! Who knew what the thing could do out in the wild?

She stopped as her phone started to ring. Growling, she dug it from a pocket and answered it. "What do you want?"

A chill ran down her spine as she heard Oklahoma ask, "Did you do anything weird to a turkey lately?"

"Perhaps?"

"Well it's dead, and you owe Duncan a new wall." Then she hung up. South Dakota sighed and looked down at the freezer full of turkeys,

"Well, there are plenty more where number four came from..."

Note: It's a big Grickle joke, based on the short 'Holicraze'.


	5. Rule 7593

**7593: What ever the hell happens at parties tonight is not to be spokennkf~ [Trails into illegibility].**

Near Norfolk...

Chester opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling. For several seconds she lay on something not unpleasantly solid, but eventually, she slowly sat up and looked around.

The house looked like a bomb or seven had gone off inside. There were holes in the walls and ceiling, furniture was overturned, and shipgirls and humans were passed out all over the place. Chester racked her brain trying to reconstruct the night, there was some drinking, then the ball dropped, then one of the dock workers proposed to someone, then there was more drinking, somehow she had a full bottle of tequila in her hand… Then everything got confused.

The heavy cruiser slowly got to her feet and started wandering through the devastation. First, she walked into the dining room.

Dreadnought and South Carolina lay unconscious on the floor, apparently having had a very even battle at some point. Michigan lay in the center of the table, which had been broken in half by her slamming into it. She still clutched an empty whiskey bottle in her hand. Then Chester's inebriated mind processed the sounds of glass being broken nearby, she stepped over the KO'd battleships to see who it was.

Exeter sat beside an overturned table, with a pile of shattered beer bottles on her right, and a stack of intact ones on her left. As Chester watched, Exeter grabbed an intact bottle and broke it against a table leg. It broke off at the neck, Exeter growled and dropped it into the pile of shattered glass before grabbing another whole bottle and repeating the process.

"Exeter? What are you-"

"Gonna stab Carolina." She broke another bottle off too short and cast it aside.

"But why?"

"Talkin' crap 'bout D-dreadnought." Chester eyed the pile of shattered bottles, it didn't look like Exeter was any closer to doing it right, and it probably would only make South Carolina mad anyway.

Leaving the Brit, Chester looked over into the kitchen. Tennessee, Nevada, and Nelson were passed out amid a pile of cans, bottles, and empty boxes of food. Salt Lake City was propped up against a cabinet beside them, still holding a slice of pizza in one hand and a can beer in the other.

Chester heard Pennsylvania's voice from the master bedroom beyond the kitchen, but she quickly tried to ignore the other sounds from in there. The cruiser ducked into the other semi-dining room and looked up to see a German, well the bottom half of her anyway, stuck in the ceiling with her legs dangling freely.

She couldn't tell if she had been going up through the ceiling or coming down through the floor. Several of the humans that had shown up where sprawled atop or under the table in here. Oklahoma had her arms wrapped around one guy in the corner, with both of them out cold as well.

Chester looked up at the German again and decided to see who she was. She meandered over to the stairs, stepping over Wasp (the younger) on the way. The stairs were remarkably clear, with only a few scattered bottles and other bits of trash on the way up.

The German was Blucher, a good girl but super nervous around Norway which was why she was in the US. She was awake surprisingly enough, looking up from her hand of cards as Chester walked up.

"Hallo Chester!"

"Are you okay?"

"Sure I am! Berwick said that I can get taller by decompressing my keel like this!"

Chester noted the County class cruiser's mad grin, "Uh huh."

Not seeing any reason to disturb them further, Chester carefully made her way back down the stairs. The battered drywall showed that not everyone had been so careful. She hung a right back into the living room, found a clear space on the floor near the TV, lay down, and went back to sleep.

Happy 2018 Everybody.


	6. Rule 8207

**8207: Radio station regulations exist for a reason. 50,000 watt transmitters are acceptable if you get the permits, but no more. Pushing higher will probably be its own punishment.**

 **8207a: Plus the FCC will get involved, and all we need is another level of bureaucracy involved.**

The beach was quiet except for crashing waves and the occasional seagull. Oklahoma and Duncan lay side by side on the sand, enjoying the quiet. The pair were dozing when Oklahoma sat up and looked around.

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"It sounds like-" Then Oklahoma grabbed her head in pain as the sound became louder. Duncan realized that the sound was coming from her, faintly but clearly audible. The words became clear as Oklahoma slumped unconscious onto the sand.

"Turn it off! Turn it off!"

Then the voice stopped. A few moments later Oklahoma's eyes fluttered open to see a concerned Duncan kneeling beside her.

She sat up and rubbed her head, "What happened?"

"You said that there was a noise, then it got louder, then you passed out. After that, it stopped."

"That's never happened before." Oklahoma started to get up, assisted by Duncan when what sounded like every car alarm in the parking lot on the other side of the hotel went off.

"What the heck is it now?" She looked up past the hotel, to the large antenna standing above it. "That's new."

"Huh…" Duncan put one of Oklahoma's arms around her shoulder to support her as they headed up the beach. "That looks like a radio station antenna-" He stopped.

"What?"

"Back in oh, 1930 something. There was a radio station with a 500-kilowatt transmitter, it was in Ohio or somewhere close to it. The thing could be heard out in New York, and rumor has it that people could hear it in their bed springs if they were close enough to it."

"What sort of idiot would do something like that?"

Mobile pulled herself up on her desk and wiped the blood flowing from her nose away. The studio was in total disarray, with papers and sound equipment scattered across the floor. Illinois had found her way through the wall, leaving a large battleship-shaped hole. Randolph was busy puking her guts out in the corner. Mobile looked down at the schematic of the transmitter, and the shielding that was supposed to keep them safe from the effects of 750,000 watts of emitted energy.

It was a titanic undertaking, most of the components were made by their group to spec after all. All of it, from the collapsible antenna, the power hookups for almost a million watts of electricity, the shielding to keep them safe...

"Where did we go wrong?"

"Well figure it out before we try and turn it on again." Randolph staggered to her feet and started stumbling towards the door of the studio, "I need to wash my mouth out." Mobile returned to pouring over the plans as the carrier left the room.

Randolph, feeling better already, stopped as the locked door to their studio was battered aside. Two people walked in, the one in front clearly a shipgirl. Both of them looked pretty angry too.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Oklahoma, and this is my fiancé Duncan. Who are you and what did you do?"

"Hey, we have a broadcast license." The carrier averted her eyes, "Not for something as powerful as we actually built, but it was a good project to test. Are those car alarms?"

"Yes." Oklahoma grabbed Randolph and lead her to the door. The carrier paled as the sound of two resorts worth of car alarms filled the air.

"You haven't..."

"We called the police already, and they're on their way. And I'm going to keep any of you from trying to run away."

Randolph considered making a break for it, there was no way that either of them could hope to catch her, but her fingerprints were literally all over the building. She sighed in resignation as police sirens converged on the station. "Well, crap."

Admiral Lewis whistled as he looked inside the transmitter equipment. "Mighty fine setup they got."

"The FCC is calling, they say that they've gotten complaints from down in Mexico and from Halifax about this." His secretary ship, Las Vegas Victory, said.

"I'm not surprised. The biggest transmitter like this I've seen was up in Ohio, maxed out at 500 kilowatts. This bad boy peaked at 750 thousand watts." Lewis said admiringly. "With a little bit of work, they could probably boost it even higher..."

"Sir."

"Right, yeah." He turned to Las Vegas Victory, "Time to find out what they'll need to pay to the FCC for this stunt."

"And you need to decide what to do with Mobile, Randolph, and Illinois."

"I think that what happened to them was its own punishment, do you think they'll try it again?"

"No. I think that they won't."

Notes:

It's a reliable source of information!

50,000 unstoppable watts!

Comin atcha live!

\- Clutch

The real WLW station operated from 1934 to 1939 at 500 kilowatts. I don't know much about radio, but I know enough to tell you that 500,000 watts is a terrifying amount of energy to be radiating. The rumors about hearing the radio in the bedsprings aren't uncommon, and it was also common for major electrical arcs to occur around the antenna.

Randolph was laid down after Oklahoma was sunk, so she wouldn't be familiar with her, especially not in a 1930s configuration.

Las Vegas Victory is a Victory ship, a type of merchant from WWII built by the USA. They were faster and longer lasting than Liberty ships, and a few of them are running to this day.

Shipgirls are made of metal. Close to the WLW station, metal objects started to receive the signal enough to be audible. I think of strange things while driving back and forth to school.


	7. Rules 7115 and 7296

**7115: Unmodified chainsaws are not suitable for use against abyssals.**

 **7115a: On a related note, expense reports for chainsaw repair are going to be denied until further notice.**

 **7296: We all get it, BJ Blazkowicz is a pretty cool guy, but please refrain from mimicking his actions unless appropriate.**

 **7296a: So please dial back on the tomahawk kills Oklahoma, you're scaring the destroyers with all the dismemberment.**

Quincy looked down the line of shipgirls who were preparing for the high-speed run across the Atlantic. The heavy escort would be enough to make any Abyssal force think twice… She looked again at Northampton.

"Why do you have a chainsaw?"

Northampton grinned and hefted the saw, "Melee!"

Quincy stormed over and laid her hands on Northampton's turrets, "Do these not work? Why exactly do you think you need a melee weapon huh?"

The older cruiser shrank back, "It's cool! I want to be able to do stuff like Okie and Tenryuu do!"

"Both of them are crazy." Quincy said flatly, "I don't know if you've been around them when they get to use those things but... Geeze! They have rules dedicated entirely to them about holding back!"

"Why?"

"Ahhh…" One of the destroyers, Izard, spoke up from the rear of the formation. "I- I know why… A few months ago..."

Izard led three of her sisters through the maelstrom, hunting for Abyssals while trying to avoid being detected in return. The skirmishes and abysmal weather had rendered their radar useless, but in the nigh-impenetrable fog, there was no way to tell friend from foe anyway aside from the naked eye.

Off to the front, there was a sharp exchange of heavy gunfire, flashes just visible through the mist. Something flew through the curtain and hit Izard square in the chest, she screamed in alarm as the severed arm bounced off and sank into the crashing waves.

Suddenly something loomed from the side, less than a thousand yards away. An Abyssal heavy cruiser, with eight eight-inch guns, torpedoes, and a deadly battery of smaller guns. Izard looked down the barrels as she trained her torpedoes, but part of her knew that the heavy shells would tear her apart before she could launch. The Abyssal grinned savagely, then its expression changed. It spun around-

An ichor-stained blade chopped through its leg halfway up its thigh, severing the limb in a single strike. With a nightmarish scream, it fell right into the path of Oklahoma's second strike. The battleship buried her tomahawk deep into the Abyssals chest and the infernal light in its eyes died.

With an expression of contempt, Oklahoma pulled her weapon free and rested it on her shoulder. Then she saw the destroyers, wide-eyed and clinging to each other.

"Hello!" She waved jauntily and smiled. As one, the destroyers turned and fled from the scene at full speed. Oklahoma paused and looked down at herself, just then noticing that her white shirt and blue skirt were soaked through with blood and ichor, and no doubt the rest of her was also covered in various vital fluids that should remain in the body.

Izard finished her story and shivered, "I've heard that Tenryuu and Tatsuta are even scarier."

"That sounds awesome…" Northampton said, her eyes shining. Quincy threw up her hands,

"Whatever! But when an Abyssal decides to have Northampton butt on rye, don't come crying to me about it."

Two days later, Quincy smiled as a salvo tore an Abyssal light cruiser asunder. Her side of the convoy was clear now, and she looked over to the far side just in time to see Northampton rev her chainsaw. With a maniacal cackle, she charged towards the largest Abyssal on that side, a heavy cruiser of some strain.

Taken by surprise, the Abyssals did nothing as Northampton raised the saw over her head and brought it down on her target's head.

To no effect on the Abyssal. The chain on the saw broke, and the guide bent under the force, leaving Northampton in fisticuffs range of a deeply unamused Abyssal.

Quincy swerved to avoid Northampton's senseless and bloody form as she skipped like a stone across the water, busted chainsaw still clutched in her hand. She heaved a sigh as she took aim, mentally composing the rule that would go up after this fiasco. And she would never, never let Northampton live this down.

Notes:

Okie becomes a walking CDC nightmare on occasion.

"Who wants a hug?"

Izard is a Fletcher class, DD-589, and earned ten battle stars in WWII. She was named for Ralph Izard who served under Decatur at Tripoli in 1804 when he destroyed the Philadelphia. I thought it was kind of cool to know.


End file.
